


Helping Each Other Is A Job We Should Do

by mardemaravilla



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Crack, FC Chelsea, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardemaravilla/pseuds/mardemaravilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando and Juan find out that it's not easy raising two grown men. Crack fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Each Other Is A Job We Should Do

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9132.html?thread=2857388#t2857388).

Juan unlocks the apartment door and is happy to find Fernando sprawled out on the couch in his underwear, flipping through channels on the tv.

"Hey, I got dinner for us and the guys."

Fernando peers over the back of the sofa, "The guys?"

Juan nods, "César and Oriol. I told you I invited them over for dinner today, Fer. Don't tell me you forgot."

Fernando sits up and shrugs a little sheepishly. He definitely forgot, but sometimes he can't help it. Juan is able to do so much more than just talk with that beautiful mouth; it's not Fernando's fault that he gets distracted.

Juan shakes his head as though he knows what Fernando is thinking. He starts setting the table. "They'll be here in half an hour, _amor_. Go put some clothes on."

Fernando turns the tv off and slides his arms around Juan as the small Spaniard moves around the dining table, "Clothes? Really? Do you think half an hour might be enough time to make a mess on this table and get then it all cleaned up?"

Juan's breath hitches and he puts the stack of plates down, but he uses his free hands to push Fernando away. "Last time it wasn't, remember? I still don't think Frank believes that you spilled 'Spanish cream' on the table."

 

When the younger pair arrives and they settle into dinner, César grins at them from across the table, "So I met this girl today..."

Juan squeezes Fernando's knee beneath the table excitedly, but his voice remains calm, "Really? Where? What's she like?"

The young Spaniard tells them of his encounter with the pretty woman, how she liked his accent and they traded numbers. Oriol just pouts next to him.

"What's wrong, Ori? You're being very quiet," Fernando prods gently.

"César always meets pretty girls and I never do. It makes me feel like a loser."

"It's 'cause you _are_ a loser," Azpi says dismissively.

"Hey!"

"César! Don't say things like that!" Juan frowns at the older of the two players seated across from him, "Apologise to Ori."

César pushes rice around his plate disinterestedly, "Sorry, Ori."

Oriol says nothing, but still pouts.

 

After dinner, Fernando shuttles César and Oriol into the living room to play video games while Juan loads the soiled dinnerware into the dishwasher. The Asturian emerges from the kitchen with four slices of strawberry cheesecake and a warning not to eat the dessert too quickly.

Oriol and César barely pay attention to him as they get into another fight. Oriol smears strawberry sauce across César's face in an effort to shut him up. It doesn't work. Fernando hauls the two young men apart, sending Azpi to clean up in the bathroom while he gives Ori a stern lecture. Juan takes the dessert back to the kitchen, shaking his head.

 

When the boys leave, Juan flops down on the couch and buries his head into Fernando's neck.

"Did you really make me get dressed for that?" Fernando teases.

Juan sighs, "They're good boys. They just don't know how to express themselves properly."

"Oh, I don't know. César was expressing himself quite fine when he told Ori to go fuc-"

"That's not what I meant."

Fernando laughs and lies back on the cushions, pulling Juan down on top of him.

"Growing pains, I think. That what my mother called it when my brother and I fought all the time."

"I hope they grow out of it soon. Or at least grow out of the food fighting. I don't know how to keep explaining the stains on the upholstery to the cleaners. I'm sure she thinks I'm a slob who has no idea how to eat without causing a mess."

"Just explain it to her," Fernando combs his fingers through Juan's soft curls.

The blue-eyed man looks up at his lover, "How do I explain that we're raising two men? Two men who act like kids. Kids who aren't even ours."

Fernando makes a face and offers a suggestion, "Maybe you should just stop inviting them over."

"Oh Fer, you don't mean that!" Juan sits up and frowns worriedly, "They're still young. I know they're frustrating as all hell, but if we were just more patient with them, then--"

Fernando cuts Juan off with a kiss, "Easy there, mother bird. I wasn't being serious. Although I do think we should reconsider the types of food we serve when they come by."

Juan laughs and wraps his arms around Fernando's shoulders, "Thank you. For being so great and helping me look after those two."

"Nothing to thank me for, _amor_. I do it because I love you."

The midfielder helps Fernando switch off the lights and follows him to bed. They change into their pyjamas and settle under the covers. Fernando lets his fingers trail along Juan's side.

"You're always so busy looking after Ori and Azpi, _amor_. You need to let me take care of you too."

Juan leans into Fernando's touch and smiles, "Will you let me top tonight?"

"No way, you always make such a mess of the sheets with the lube. There are about five or six sets piled away in the cupboard because I can't get the stains out, no matter how much I wash them.

"I wouldn't need so much if you weren't so tight back there, you know?" Fernando blushes but Juan continues, "If you let me top more, I'd probably have to use less."

"All right, fine. But don't go crazy, okay? I have an interview tomorrow and I don't want one of the questions to be about why I can't sit straight."

Juan smiles and kisses his freckled lover before reaching over for the tube of lubricant in the nightstand drawer.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong?"

"Don't get mad, but I spilled it on the sheet."

**Author's Note:**

> i) Based on [Fernando's interview](http://www.chelseafc.com/news-article/article/2979586/title/words-with-fernando-torres). Title stolen from there also.
> 
> ii) Photographic evidence: [Ori shows Juan and Nando where it hurts.](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2012/12/10/article-0-166A19C0000005DC-887_468x320.jpg)


End file.
